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And tears your anchor-hold.
You forge
Through surge,
To be in rending breakers rolled.
While old Triton, etc.
Do sailors stare this way,
Cramped on the Needle's sheaf,
To hail the sudden ray
Which promises relief?
Then, bright;
Shine, light!
Of hope upon the beacon reef!
Though 'tis Triton, etc.
LOVE'S TREACHEROUS POOL
("Jeune fille, l'amour c'est un miroir.")
{XXVI., February, 1835.}
Young maiden, true love is a pool all mirroring clear,
Where coquettish girls come to linger in long delight,
For it banishes afar from the face all the clouds that besmear
The soul truly bright;
But tempts you to ruffle its surface; drawing your foot
To subtilest sinking! and farther and farther the brink
That vainly you snatch – for repentance, 'tis weed without root, —
And struggling, you sink!
THE ROSE AND THE GRAVE
("La tombe dit à la rose.")
{XXXI., June 3, 1837}
The Grave said to the rose
"What of the dews of dawn,
Love's flower, what end is theirs?"
"And what of spirits flown,
The souls whereon doth close
The tomb's mouth unawares?"
The Rose said to the Grave.
The Rose said: "In the shade
From the dawn's tears is made
A perfume faint and strange,
Amber and honey sweet."
"And all the spirits fleet
Do suffer a sky-change,
More strangely than the dew,
To God's own angels new,"
The Grave said to the Rose.
A. LANG.
LES RAYONS ET LES OMBRES. – 1840.
HOLYROOD PALACE
("O palais, sois bénié.")
{II., June, 1839.}
Palace and ruin, bless thee evermore!
Grateful we bow thy gloomy tow'rs before;
For the old King of France{1} hath found in thee
That melancholy hospitality
Which in their royal fortune's evil day,
Stuarts and Bourbons to each other pay.
Fraser's Magazine.
{Footnote 1: King Charles X.}
THE HUMBLE HOME
("L'église est vaste et haute.")
{IV., June 29, 1839.}
The Church{1} is vast; its towering pride, its steeples loom on high;
The bristling stones with leaf and flower are sculptured wondrously;
The portal glows resplendent with its "rose,"
And 'neath the vault immense at evening swarm
Figures of angel, saint, or demon's form,
As oft a fearful world our dreams disclose.
But not the huge Cathedral's height, nor yet its vault sublime,
Nor porch, nor glass, nor streaks of light, nor shadows deep with time;
Nor massy towers, that fascinate mine eyes;
No, 'tis that spot – the mind's tranquillity —
Chamber wherefrom the song mounts cheerily,
Placed like a joyful nest well nigh the skies.
Yea! glorious is the Church, I ween, but Meekness dwelleth here;
Less do I love the lofty oak than mossy nest it bear;
More dear is meadow breath than stormy wind:
And when my mind for meditation's meant,
The seaweed is preferred to the shore's extent, —
The swallow to the main it leaves behind.
You forge
Through surge,
To be in rending breakers rolled.
While old Triton, etc.
Do sailors stare this way,
Cramped on the Needle's sheaf,
To hail the sudden ray
Which promises relief?
Then, bright;
Shine, light!
Of hope upon the beacon reef!
Though 'tis Triton, etc.
LOVE'S TREACHEROUS POOL
("Jeune fille, l'amour c'est un miroir.")
{XXVI., February, 1835.}
Young maiden, true love is a pool all mirroring clear,
Where coquettish girls come to linger in long delight,
For it banishes afar from the face all the clouds that besmear
The soul truly bright;
But tempts you to ruffle its surface; drawing your foot
To subtilest sinking! and farther and farther the brink
That vainly you snatch – for repentance, 'tis weed without root, —
And struggling, you sink!
THE ROSE AND THE GRAVE
("La tombe dit à la rose.")
{XXXI., June 3, 1837}
The Grave said to the rose
"What of the dews of dawn,
Love's flower, what end is theirs?"
"And what of spirits flown,
The souls whereon doth close
The tomb's mouth unawares?"
The Rose said to the Grave.
The Rose said: "In the shade
From the dawn's tears is made
A perfume faint and strange,
Amber and honey sweet."
"And all the spirits fleet
Do suffer a sky-change,
More strangely than the dew,
To God's own angels new,"
The Grave said to the Rose.
A. LANG.
LES RAYONS ET LES OMBRES. – 1840.
HOLYROOD PALACE
("O palais, sois bénié.")
{II., June, 1839.}
Palace and ruin, bless thee evermore!
Grateful we bow thy gloomy tow'rs before;
For the old King of France{1} hath found in thee
That melancholy hospitality
Which in their royal fortune's evil day,
Stuarts and Bourbons to each other pay.
Fraser's Magazine.
{Footnote 1: King Charles X.}
THE HUMBLE HOME
("L'église est vaste et haute.")
{IV., June 29, 1839.}
The Church{1} is vast; its towering pride, its steeples loom on high;
The bristling stones with leaf and flower are sculptured wondrously;
The portal glows resplendent with its "rose,"
And 'neath the vault immense at evening swarm
Figures of angel, saint, or demon's form,
As oft a fearful world our dreams disclose.
But not the huge Cathedral's height, nor yet its vault sublime,
Nor porch, nor glass, nor streaks of light, nor shadows deep with time;
Nor massy towers, that fascinate mine eyes;
No, 'tis that spot – the mind's tranquillity —
Chamber wherefrom the song mounts cheerily,
Placed like a joyful nest well nigh the skies.
Yea! glorious is the Church, I ween, but Meekness dwelleth here;
Less do I love the lofty oak than mossy nest it bear;
More dear is meadow breath than stormy wind:
And when my mind for meditation's meant,
The seaweed is preferred to the shore's extent, —
The swallow to the main it leaves behind.
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Последний отзыв
Классная книга. Очень многое объясняет, что скрытое реально происходит в человеке